Why Talking Mice Can Come In Handy
by tofumalfoy
Summary: Preventer Heero Yuy has been sent to the town of Peacecraftsburg to investigate allegations of violations of the Virginal Sacrifice Protection Act; 1x2 AU


~ Title: Why Talking Mice Can Come In Handy  
  
~ Author: Tofumalfoy (tofumalfoy @ yahoo.com)  
  
~ Rating: PG?  
  
~ Pairings: 1+2+1, 3+4+3  
  
~ Category: AU, fantasy, humor ~ Warnings: fleeting mention of moderately lime-ish activity. . . and deadpan sarcasm in the narration. I don't even think there's any foul language in this. Wow.  
  
~ Archive: Ask and ye shall receive ~ Disclaimer: I've been a good girl, and there's only a month 'til Christmas, so maybe I've got a chance. . . but until then, no, they're still not mine. *pines*  
  
~ Feedback: Sounds good to me  
  
~ Notes: _text_ (emphasis)  
  
The idea for this came to me in a feverish delirium and I couldn't sleep until I wrote it. Or that might have been because I'd slept the previous two days through. So blame it on my illness.  
  
**  
  
He strode down Market Street in the rural town, warrant in hand, flanked by his muscle on one side and the little Squealer on the other. "Squealer" being the popular nickname among the men on the force for the people who reported this type of infraction. Their destination: the governor's manor.  
  
Governor Peacecraft was said to be a fair and just ruler, so the warrant Heero held would most likely come to nothing. Still, the Squealer had his own reputation. . .  
  
His name was Quatre Winner, and he was a tactician renowned even as far as the capital. He had been called to Peacecraftsburg for the purpose of out- maneuvering the large party of talking mice that had taken up residence in the walls of the manor. After two weeks, though, if the truth be told, they were exhausting him. The kitchen staff was moody, the governor's family stayed away as much as possible, and everyone who didn't have the freedom to leave sneezed almost constantly because of the pepper Winner had ordered spread about the place nearly nine days prior. Desperate as he'd never been before, he'd thrown up a white flag of truce and begun negotiations with the cheeky pests.  
  
Their leader, Hilde, was a very clever mouse, but Quatre soon realized that even she could not have come up with the brilliant countermeasures her underlings had employed.  
  
With strategic use of flattery and manipulation of the little-known Achilles Heel to all mice - modesty - he was able to glean exactly who had been parrying his brilliant attacks, and he didn't like what he heard.  
  
After poking around a little more and questioning some of the more blatantly disgruntled cleaning staff, he was able to confirm that there was, indeed, a person locked in the manor's north tower, quite possibly against his or her will.  
  
**  
  
"I'm here to see Governor Peacecraft," Heero stated, waving the warrant marked with the King's seal as his authority.  
  
The butler, his eyes not visible beneath his brow, sighed as though he'd expected this to come about sooner or later and gestured for the small company to precede him into the foyer. After following him along far too many arched corridors and up far too many flights of stairs they reached the entrance to the governor's second floor study, and the butler pushed open the large oak door and announced the arrival of Preventers Yuy and Barton.  
  
**  
  
"WHAT?!" came the outraged cry from the bearded governor as he read the warrant in his trembling (with outrage, of course) hands. "This is preposterous!"  
  
"I'm afraid not, sir. This town is suspected of violating Clause XVII of Amendment MCMX of this country's law, more popularly known as the Virginal Sacrifice Protection Act. By order of his Majesty King Treize of Catalonia we are authorized to search these premises for any infractions regarding or relating to this amendment."  
  
"OUTRAGEOUS!" bellowed the furious governor who, despite appearances, actually had quite a large voice hidden beneath all that beard. He opened his mouth to protest again, but Heero interrupted him.  
  
"Please keep in mind, your Governorship, that anything you say may be used to turn his Majesty's favor should this warrant prove to be justified."  
  
At that the governor shut his mouth, sat back at his desk and muttered something that sounded like, "do as you like."  
  
With the cooperation of the governor now secured, Heero gestured for the Squealer to lead the way.  
  
**  
  
". . .and so I kept dropping these subtle hints, right? About how they might have a lot to gain by getting this thing exposed." The Squealer gladly recounted the tale of his discovery of this alleged unlawful act and Preventer Barton, painfully enraptured, coaxed him on worshipfully.  
  
"Brilliant," he breathed, causing the smaller boy to blush noticeably even in the dramatically torch-lit corridor.  
  
". . .and Hilde - she's such a darling little mouse, I'm really glad I didn't resort to more drastic measures before we got to meet - anyway, Hilde kept saying it wasn't her, it wasn't her, but she wouldn't tell me who came up with the idea to make little tiny brooms for each of the mice to brush the pepper aside!"  
  
Lagging a bit behind his rapt parent and chatty guide, Heero rolled his eyes as the tactician continued his self-glorifying tale.  
  
". . .but I kept at her and kept at her, and finally her modesty - all mice are really very modest, you know - made her feel so guilty about concealing the truth that she broke down and confessed! I admit, I'm not accustomed to playing the counselor, but I was the only one - the only one, do you believe it? The only one even among all her ranks who had a clean handkerchief on them." Quatre tossed up his hands dramatically. "Honestly, I don't know if it is just these rural towns or what, but talking creatures are going absolutely _heathen_ these days! Next thing you know they'll be raiding our stores, contaminating our water and spreading disease all over the countryside just like the rest of the vermin!" He sighed. "But what can you do, really, you know?"  
  
"Trowa." Heero took advantage of the momentary break to warn his partner, all of whose senses were fixed on the Squealer, of the large potted plant he was about to collide with.  
  
Too late to stop the inevitable, it at least provided a break from the incessant-  
  
"Oh, Preventer Barton, are you okay? You know, I _told_ them these plants are absolute black holes in the fabric of mouse prevention, and I see they _still_ haven't taken my advice. I don't see how they expect to keep their mice under control if they insist on piling all this- this _refuse_ in the corridors!"  
  
. . .So much for that tactic.  
  
**  
  
Two hours later found the rapidly wearying company at the dungeon-level entrance to the staircase leading to the north tower. Trowa shot Heero a dark look when the irate Preventer had the gall to ask if there wasn't perhaps a more efficient way to get to this staircase.  
  
The negatory came first in the form of a longsuffering roll of the eyes on the part of the Squealer, then as cheerfully echoing reproof as they stumbled up the spiral stairs. ". . .there's an access from the west tower, I hear, but that takes even longer to navigate, or so Hilde was telling me. . . Honestly I _told_ the governor that stairs are absolutely the worst things to have when you're trying to outwit talking mice, and look, he's done nothing to get rid of any of them. . ."  
  
**  
  
"You in there!" Heero pounded on the heavy door at the top of the stairs until a muffled ". . .wha. . .?" confirmed that the captive was still alive. "You in there, are you a sacrificial virgin?"  
  
"What?!" came the shocked reply. "I don't go tossin' that kind of information around, okay, buddy?"  
  
With a quick glance at Trowa for confirmation of his next action, Heero smote the lock with his sword and pushed the door open carefully. "My apologies if you're- OOF!" He was cut off as a stale baguette swung from behind the door and hit him in the face. "I beg your pardon. . .?" he blinked, sizing up his opponent.  
  
"I don't know who told you what, but I am here as an heir-in-hiding!! Why does everyone think I'm a sacrificial virgin?!" The braided captive spoke with the frustration of a man who'd been mislabeled for many years.  
  
Heir to what? Heero wondered. There had been no controversy about any of the noble bloodlines for centuries. Then he felt the warm, thick liquid dripping from his open mouth.  
  
"I'm bleeding!" Heero said accusingly. "You made me bleed! You and that vicious baguette of yours!"  
  
At this Trowa peeked around from where he had been necking with Quatre and corrected him: "It's just drool, Yuy."  
  
Drool? Heero wondered. Surely not because of that horribly aged baguette. . .? It _had_ been a while since he'd last eaten, but he didn't think it unreasonable to expect at least a _little_ integrity of himself. But enough. He shook the thoughts from his mind, deftly wiped his chin, and once more addressed the captive.  
  
"There are obviously some things that need to be sorted out," he said. "Come with me, and we'll discuss this with the governor."  
  
**  
  
Governor Peacecraft looked dismayed, to say the least, when the Preventers marched back in to his office leading the young man he'd held in his manor's north tower.  
  
"I say, you hardly look a thing like her!"  
  
". . .huh?"  
  
"Pargan, send Relena in, will you? I could have _sworn_ there was more of a resemblance!"  
  
". . .um governor. . ." Heero tried to break in.  
  
"Quiet, boy, this is serious, don't you see? Ah, Relena, dear!" The latter exclamation was addressed in the direction of the door, where stood a young woman with perfectly kempt honey-gold hair. "Relena, come here, child. Pargan, tell me how I ever thought this boy would serve as a suitable stand-in?!"  
  
". . .Well, it was a good twelve years ago that you picked him up, your Governorship," came the slow, thoughtful reply.  
  
The governor hummed in contemplation, looking back and forth between his daughter and the young man who looked, in all honesty, nothing at all like the girl. "I suppose. . . but can a person's appearance really change so much, Pargan? It seems so. . ."  
  
"Wait a second, here, what exactly is going on?" the blue-eyed officer interrupted the musing.  
  
"I think I've got it figured," his partner spoke up. "Obviously this boy was selected to take the place of Miss Peacecraft, here, for an impending dragon attack." He paused momentarily. ". . .but twelve years. . . that's definitely outside the designated range for dragons demanding virginal sacrifices. . . don't tell me we've got a violation of Clause IV on our hands. . .?" A green eye rolled skyward to complement the groan the passed his lips.  
  
"Well?" Heero demanded. "Is this the case? Are you the victim of a rogue dragon attempting to operate outside the law? Why didn't you report this??"  
  
The governor was too busy comparing faces to notice he was being addressed, occasionally muttering things like, "_I_ look more like her than he does. . ." So Pargan, the ever-helpful all-purpose butler stepped in.  
  
"I believe Master Peacecraft was merely planning ahead in case of any future danger of dragons in the region," he said.  
  
Quatre nodded thoughtfully. "Very wise strategy. . ."  
  
"It is also, however, in direct violation of Clause XX of the Virginal Sacrifice Protection Act." Heero's eyes glinted with the steely ferocity of a man delivering justice. "Governor Peacecraft, by the authority vested in me by his Majesty King Treize of Catalonia, I arrest you on the following charges: one, being deliberately deceptive to a captive regarding the reasons for their captivity; two, holding a virginal sacrifice against his will. . . you are opposed to being held as a virginal sacrifice, I assume?"  
  
"Hell yes!" the fuming boy exclaimed.  
  
"Right then. And three, for holding a virginal sacrifice and/or stand-in merely as a safeguard against _hypothetical_ dragons when the law clearly states that such virgins may only be designated _after_ the demand has been made by a dragon - usually six to eight weeks before it intends to ravage a countryside."  
  
"WOULD YOU STOP THROWING THE WORD 'VIRGIN' AROUND ALL THE TIME?!?" The former captive was blushing furiously, and Heero's demeanor instantly changed as he altered the man's classification in his head to 'victim.'  
  
"I'm terribly sorry," he said as gently as he could manage. "I'm afraid I don't even know your name. . . Mr. . .?"  
  
"Duo. Just Duo."  
  
"Duo, then." Heero reached out to give the boy's hand a reassuring pat only to find that his hand would detach once it made contact. "What the-?! Give me back my hand, you knave!"  
  
"Excuse me?" Duo replied, indignant. "I believe it is _your_ hand that is clutching _mine_, Mr. Officer."  
  
". . .and I'm bleeding again!"  
  
"Still just drool, Heero," Trowa called from the doorway, where he was escorting the handcuffed official to the town Justice Hall for conviction.  
  
". . .oh," Heero replied absently, gaze caught by the bewitching eyes of the beauty he'd just rescued. "Wait, there isn't even any bread here!"  
  
But his partner and the rest of reality, it seemed, had vanished in a haze of intricate doilies, delicate flowers and sparkling bubbles.  
  
Biting his lip, Duo broke the gaze, rocking back on his heels. "I'm. . . sorry about the baguette," he said hesitantly. "I didn't realize. . ."  
  
"Of course you didn't," Heero soothed, his free hand (the other still held fast to one of Duo's) moving to trace the curve of his interest's cheek as lecherous thoughts came unbidden to his much-neglected imagination.  
  
"Um, Heero. . ."  
  
"What is it, love?"  
  
"You're. . . bleeding," Duo said.  
  
"It's likely just drool again, no need to fret, my braided peach."  
  
"No, I mean _really_ bleeding."  
  
And Heero knew only darkness thereafter.  
  
((Afterward))  
  
"Wha. . .?" Heero tried to sit up but was restrained by gentle hands.  
  
"Shh, don't try to sit up. You might get dizzy and faint again."  
  
"wha. . . faint?" His vision cleared and the love of his life appeared at his bedside, glowing as though a sunlit window was behind him (which was, in fact, the case).  
  
"You lost a lot of blood from that nosebleed, so just rest a while longer, okay?" Duo gently ran his fingers through Heero's wild hair and kissed the dazed man's forehead. ". . .There is one thing I'm curious to ask, my heart. . ."  
  
". . .unh?"  
  
Duo took this as a sign to continue.  
  
"Aren't virginal sacrifices. . . supposed to be girls?"  
  
". . .amen'ment. . . beginn'n c'lonia dynasty. . ." Heero slurred. ". . .no gender discrim'nating. . . any cause. . ."  
  
"That's all I wanted to know, love. You can black out again now. We'll talk more when your blood count's back up."  
  
And Heero knew only darkness thereafter.  
  
.ende. 


End file.
